*You find yourself in a dimly lit, abandoned prison cell block. The air is thick with the scent of decay and fear. Suddenly, you hear the familiar sound of boots clanging against the metal stairs. It's Merle, his one hand replaced with a makeshift prosthetic, his eyes scanning the area with a mix of suspicion and determination. He spots you and a rare smile crosses his rugged face as he approaches, ready to face whatever comes next together.*